Always
by flylikeadcriss
Summary: Blaine told Kurt he'd love him forever.


**Sucky title and description, I know. I'm terrible at those.**

**I don't own Glee.**

* * *

"Wake up."

Blaine blinks his eyes open, then just as quickly shuts them as Kurt pushes gently on his shoulder.

"Come on, Blaine. I know you're awake."

There's light coming in from between the blinds on their bedroom window, but Blaine doubts it's time for him to get up for work yet, so he rolls over and presses his face into the pillow.

"Go away."

He doesn't say it teasingly, or mock-annoyed like he used to when Kurt woke him up for random reasons—there was a spider in the bathroom, he'd thought of a new design idea and needed Blaine's opinion on it immediately, he couldn't sleep and figured they might as well have sex—he says it irritably, and he's relieved when Kurt withdraws his hand and shifts over to his side of the bed.

"Fine."

* * *

When Blaine wakes up for real an hour later, Kurt is sitting at the dining room table, in his favorite silk bathrobe, his arms crossed.

"That took forever," Kurt says.

"Some of us have to sleep," Blaine replies, avoiding Kurt's eyes. "And work. I have to go to work."

Kurt sighs heavily as Blaine moves to make himself some coffee.

"Besides, I'm guessing you'll be here when I get back," he adds resignedly, and Kurt chuckles.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

"Blaine."

"Hm?" Blaine looks up, blinking in the fluorescent light, to see Mark, a college friend of Kurt's that had become Blaine's friend when he followed Kurt to New York after his senior year.

"I knocked," Mark points out. "For, like, three minutes. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Blaine says, forcing a smile. "Lost in thought, I guess."

Mark nods slowly.

"You know, I really think you should maybe go home," he says. "You look awful. Just…get some rest."

"I'm really busy," Blaine replies, pressing a button on his keyboard to bring his computer back to life.

"I'd be willing to bet you've been sitting at your desk doing nothing for a long time now," Mark counters. "You're not getting anything done. Just go—"

"I don't want to go home!" Blaine snaps suddenly, and immediately regrets it, shaking his head. "Sorry. I just have to work right now, okay?"

Mark stares at him for a long moment.

"Let me take you out to lunch, then," he finally says. "That's why I came down here, anyway."

"I—" Blaine hesitates, thinks of Kurt, and pushes the thought from his mind. "Okay."

* * *

"God, do you remember when we first came here?" Mark asks, shifting in his chair and looking around the restaurant. "It was Kurt's what, twenty fifth birthday? And he wanted to show us this awesome Italian place he'd found, remember?"

Blaine glances down at the menu, then drops it on the table, suddenly not hungry at all.

"I don't want to talk about Kurt."

Mark sets down his menu, too, and worries his lip between his teeth.

"I think you need to talk about Kurt," he replies, leaning forward across the table towards Blaine. "Blaine, don't you think this has gone on long enough?"

"I'm not doing this," Blaine replies dully, picking up his menu again and pretending to read it.

"I just think you need to move on," Mark says gently, reaching across the table and laying his hand over Blaine's. "And I'm always here for you, you know—"

"Don't." Blaine jerks his hand away.

"You never see any of your friends anymore. You just work." Mark shakes his head. "This isn't healthy. Look, I get it."

"You don't get it," Blaine sighs, setting down his menu again. "You don't…. You don't know the whole story, okay?"

"So tell me the whole story," Mark says insistently.

Blaine looks down at the table, back at Mark, and towards the door.

"I have to go," he says, standing up abruptly. "I have a meeting in a half hour and I forgot I had to prep for it some more."

"Blaine."

But Blaine is already rushing away from the table.

* * *

Blaine doesn't go back to the office. He doesn't go home.

He wanders. He's been doing that a lot, lately. He wanders through the streets and looks in shop windows.

He sees a scarf on a mannequin that Kurt would love, and remembers a time when he would have bought it, brought it home as a surprise just to hear Kurt's squeal of delight.

But this time, he just walks past the shop and wanders on.

* * *

It's late when he gets home, later than he's usually home even nowadays, and Kurt is sitting on the sofa waiting for him.

"You're late."

Blaine hangs his coat by the door and walks past Kurt towards the bedroom.

"I was busy."

Kurt sucks in an annoyed breath, standing and following Blaine. "You went out with Mark, didn't you?"

"How did you—" Blaine cuts himself off. He doesn't want to think about how Kurt knew. "Fine. Yes."

"And he hit on you. _Again_."

"He did not hit on me," Blaine says sharply, sitting down on he edge of the bed and dropping his head in his hands, his words coming out muffled.

"He's always liked you," Kurt continues as if Blaine hasn't spoken. Blaine doesn't look, but he can hear the frown in Kurt's voice. "He's had a crush on you since you met."

"He's your _friend. _He's my friend. He doesn't…" Blaine trails off because Kurt might be right, but he's too tired to think about how little he wants Kurt to be right.

"I thought he was my friend," Kurt retorts.

There's a long silence, and then Kurt speaks again, softer and more gently this time.

"Blaine?"

He doesn't reply, but Kurt continues anyway.

"Blaine, you said you'd love me forever."

His hands are still covering his eyes, but Blaine scrunches them shut anyway.

"I do love you," he says quietly, and Kurt hums softly.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

Kurt's voice is small, hurt.

Blaine doesn't want to answer, doesn't want to say it, but Kurt's expectant silence forces him to.

"Because you're not supposed to be here," he replies, and Kurt makes a little half-laugh.

"I'm not?"

"No," Blaine says, and forces the next words out. "You're…. You're _dead_."

Kurt laughs again, lightly.

"Look at me," he says, his voice softly commanding.

Blaine reluctantly picks his head up and looks up at Kurt, standing by the door with one of his special smiles on his face—the one that says _come on, Blaine, stop being an idiot_.

"Do I look dead to you?"

Blaine's eyes flicker up to Kurt's right temple, at the gash that's caked with blood, matting his hair, at the deep scratches littering Kurt's face.

"A little," he admits. "I…. Kurt, I _killed _you."

Kurt's smile fades.

"Honey, you didn't kill me," he says seriously.

"I was drunk," Blaine insists, unable to take his eyes off Kurt now. "I didn't mean to, I promise, but you know I did—"

"You weren't drunk," Kurt says firmly. "They checked, you weren't drunk."

"I was drinking," Blaine argues, and Kurt smiles sadly.

"You always did all your stupidest things when you were drinking," he says, shaking his head. "God, you _proposed _to me when you were drunk."

"You said yes," Blaine whispers, actually smiling a little at the memory.

Kurt nods, smiling too, then his expression turns somber again.

"Please don't ignore me," he whispers, sounding more vulnerable than Blaine's heard him in months.

Blaine's eyes flicker to the wound on Kurt's temple again, and he winces.

Kurt hums in acknowledgment, then steps forward.

"Close your eyes," he whispers, and Blaine obeys, tensing as he hears Kurt approach him. The bed dips next to him, and Kurt brings his hand to touch Blaine's cheek, gently. "Relax."

Blaine takes a deep breath and leans into Kurt's hand, feeling Kurt draw him closer.

Somehow, Kurt doesn't smell like blood—he smells like the Kurt Blaine knew, like lilac and soap and somehow also like sunshine, and clear water.

"I love you," he whispers, and feels Kurt's breath on his face as he leans in.

"I'll always love you," Kurt whispers, and brushes their lips together.

* * *

**Now, I know people hate being asked for reviews, but I would love to know if you called the ending because I'm working on writing stories with surprising endings and I want to know how I'm doing. I would also love to know your interpretation of the ending.**

**No obligation, though. Thanks for reading no matter what. :-)**


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